October 19, 2003

Grand Bassam and grand metaphor...

October 19, 2003

After sleeping in, I call Emma. We are supposed to do something today and she had talked about inviting me over to visit her family for lunch. It is Sunday so I can't do any reporting. When I call Emma she says we can't have lunch because the wife of one of her brother's has died unexpectedly. I say this terrible news and I express my condolences, but Emma doesn't seem that upset and insists that we do something together anyway. I can't believe it. If it were my sister-in-law who passed away I wouldn't be going out. I tell her that this is ridiculous, she should be with her family. But Emma is adamant that we do something. I ask her what there is to do on a Sunday in Abidjan. Nothing, she says, except many Abidjan residents escape the city and go to the beach in Grand Bassam, the old colonial capital of Cote d'Ivoire which is located about 45 km away. So we decided to go to Grand Bassam.

To get to there, we take a taxi to Gare de Bassam, which means Bassam Station. I imagine this to be a bus terminal but it turns out Gare de Bassam is simply a corner in Treichville next to a Texaco station. Or, at least that is where Gare de Bassam used to be. When we get to this corner, it turns out that Gare de Bassam has moved to another location some 5 minutes drive away. But to get over to the new spot we have to take a "lorry." In British English a lorry is a truck. But here a lorry is a beat-up old white station wagon into which the driver crams eight passengers. The lorry won't move until every place is full. Needless to say, there is no air-conditioning. Two women climb into the lorry after us in colorful dresses and headdresses. One woman has a child slung over her back in a kind of papuss. Soon the lorry is full and we drive over to the new Gare de Bassam, which turns out to be a pot-holed dirt lot located next to a coffee roasting plant and populated with the cannibalized hulks of old school buses. We transfer to another lorry and wait some more. Eventually all the spots are full and we head off for Grand Bassam.

The drive is pleasant. On the outskirts of Abidjan, there are shanty towns where people raise livestock: chickens, sheep and some scrawny cattle. Soon we are surrounded by stands on palm-trees and we pass decrepit villages hard by the shore. Emma says these people are lucky to live right on the beach. They don't look too lucky, I think to myself. They look really poor.

As we approach Grand Bassam, we pass private beach clubs. These are the ones that middle-class Ivorians belong too, Emma says. They seem fairly rustic. Closer to the city, the road is lined on either side by thatched huts where artisans sell wicker and carved furniture as well as other kinds of carvings and pottery. Emma suggests I stop for souvenirs, but I tell her I'll do that some other time. Closer to the lorry station in Grand Bassam our lorry actually breaks down. We hop out and hail a taxi that takes us to the beach. On the way we pass some tents filled with white people scrambling over cars covered with advertising decals and caked with a light-brown mud. Our taxi drivers says there has been a car rally today.

At first, the beach at Grand Bassam seems like the tropical paradise it is purported to be. But on closer inspection, this image begins to crumble. The beach is littered with garbage, some of it floatsom, and some of it left by beachgoers and raked into small piles. The place smells of rot and decay - some of it from the garbage and some of it from dying marine life. The sand is very coarse and the rough surf kicks up a lot of it, turning the water an unattractive shade of brown. The waves breaking on the shore leave behind scummy tan bubbles. I am not sure if this is just salty froth or the residue of pollutants in the water (it reminds me of bubbles I've seen in lakes where motorboats have discharged gasoline.)

Emma and I wander the beach. We find some Ghanian fishermen emptying their catch from their traditional boats, which are large wooden dug-outs. Their families are gathered around. Many of the boys are naked. There are some white people on the beach, but most belong to fancy private clubs that line the shore. Emma and I pay a few hundred francs to sit under a simple thatched hut. Emma doesn't know how to swim but keeps saying she'll wait while I go in the water. I think about it but the surf looks ugly and given the amount of crap on the beach, I'm not sure I want to go into the water. All kinds of vendors ply their trade of the beach. There are some local artists selling batiks and boys trying to sell horse rides to young French girls - these beach hustlers are now different from the ones I've seen trying to scam tourists in the Caribbean or down in Mexico. But there are also some interesting salesmen from Niger selling cheap jewelry and wrapped in linen robes and turbans. And several women wander in colorful dresses with all kinds of goods balanced in baskets on their heads. Emma and I buy coconuts from one women, who uses a machete to open them up for us. We drink the milk and then she chops them up for us to get to the meat.

Later, Emma and I walk around old colonial buildings of Grand Bassam. The place must have been beautiful once, but it is now in stay of amazing decay. Shutters hang precariously from the upper story windows of grand old French mansions. The roofs of several buildings seem to have collapsed. Other residences have lost their battle against the jungle and rather large trees sprout from their foundations. A few buildings are covered in graffiti, which is too bad. The afternoon light, however, is beautiful and the place has a certain charm, as do ruins everywhere. The only thing is that people still live among these ruins. Emma says they have been trying to restore these houses to their former colonial majesty. It doesn't seem like they've made much progress. We are given a tour of the old town by a colorful local wood carver. He takes us to a store run by one his friends that sells all kinds of masks from the different tribes of Cote d'Ivoire. I really enjoyed that place. I vow to come back and try to buy some carvings. Next weekend there is a "Day of the Dead" feast here in Grand Bassam. I think I may come back to see that. It is supposed to be quite a spectacle. It's a kind of carnival in which one of the local tribes dresses in costume and honors their deceased ancestors.

As it is getting late, Emma and I take a taxi back to the lorry station in the newer part of Grand Basam. Unfortunately, a really fat Ivorian businessman sits next to me and my leg cramps up on the return trip. As we approach Abidjan again, a bend in the road provides a vista out to sea and I can see two large off-shore oil platforms looming on the horizon. Cote d'Ivoire's economy has largely been based on agriculture - cocoa, coffee, pineapples, and cotton. But recently they discovered large petroleum reserves just off-shore and a Canadian company has signed a contract to begin production. The government is hoping this may turn the country's economic fortunes around. In fact, the Novotel where I'm staying is swarming with Texans and Scotts. They all work in the oil industry. Also on the way back, we pass the airport and then the giant French military base at Port Bouet. Lined up on the other side of a high fence capped with barbed wire are dozens and dozens of armored personnel carriers, trucks, jeeps and bulldozers. There is probably more equipment here than in all of the Ivorian army.

On the taxi ride back to the Novotel, we drive across Houphouet-Boigny bridge toward Le Plateau, the business center of Abidjan. Illuminated by the setting sun, the modern office buildings of Le Plateau sparkle and it appears like a beautiful, bustling Western city -- or at least Dubai. But, just like the beach at Grand Bassam, this image does not stand close inspection. Close-up, the buildings are not so beautiful. Many are starting to fall apart. Everything is dirty. The streets are strewn with garbage. If things don't start to improve, this place may one day become much like the old town at Grand Bassam, a living ruin.

Posted by Jeremy Kahn at October 19, 2003 09:00 PM
Comments

Jeremy, this was the best one yet. Not much happening here in DC -- the big news around here is that John Muhammed (one of the alleged snipers) has decided to defend himself in court and today delivered his opening statement. Apparently there were many references to Jesus. Besides that, you're not missing much here. :)

Posted by: Dan at October 21, 2003 01:32 AM

gripping stuff, man. I'm getting nothing done here in my lower manhattan glass tower reading kahn d'ivoire. one piece of food advice: always eat the onions. onions (and garlic) destroy close to 100% of bacteria. I've followed this advice in very unsanitary situations (think central asian lamb hanging by hooks in the hot sun) and have never gotten sick. here's a times article that explains it:

The New York Times
March 3, 1998, Tuesday, Late Edition - Final
SECTION: Section F; Page 1; Column 1; Science Desk
LENGTH: 1688 words
HEADLINE: Adding Cumin to the Curry: A Matter of Life and Death

BYLINE: By JANE E. BRODY

BODY:
CHOOSE any and all correct statements: People living in hot climates eat lots of highly seasoned foods because --
1. Hot spices cool them down by making them sweat.
2. Food spoils faster in hot climates and potent seasonings disguise the taste and smell of spoiled food.
3. Spices grow profusely in the tropics and it is cheaper and easier for people to eat what is locally available.
4. Spices provide important nutrients that might otherwise be in short supply in these areas.
5. Spices make foods taste better and increase consumption of nutritious but not necessarily appealing foods.
6. Pungent spices are natural preservatives that inhibit food spoilage.
If you choose any of the first four statements, logical as they may seem, two Cornell University researchers say you would be wrong. In a 46-page paper published this month in The Quarterly Review of Biology, Jennifer Billing and Dr. Paul W. Sherman argue that "some like it hot" because spice plants contain powerful antibiotic chemicals capable of killing or suppressing the bacteria and fungi that commonly contaminate and spoil foods and can poison those who eat them.
Spices that are prominent in traditional dishes from tropical and subtropical regions are used with a much lighter hand, if at all, in countries and regions where the climate is colder, the researchers found. And many of the spices that appear most often and most abundantly in recipes from hot climates -- especially garlic, onion and hot peppers -- can inhibit 75 percent to 100 percent of the bacteria species against which they have been tested, according to studies by food microbiologists.
The researchers concluded that a taste for spicy foods may have evolved in hot climates and been transmitted from neighbor to neighbor and to succeeding generations as a cultural "neme," the social science equivalent of a gene. While they admit that the immediate reason for using spices "obviously is to enhance food palatability," they added that "the ultimate reason is most likely that spices help cleanse foods of pathogens and thereby contribute to the health, longevity and reproductive success of people who find their flavors enjoyable."
Dr. George Williams, editor of the journal, said that transmission of a taste for highly spiced food is both cultural and genetic and can begin in the womb. He cited studies by Sandra Gray at the University of Kansas showing that "the mother's diet during pregnancy and lactation can influence the dietary habits of her baby throughout its life."
Of course, Dr. Sherman said in an interview, people have other ways than spices of preserving food -- by salting, cooking, smoking or drying it and now by refrigerating or freezing it. But he believes the contribution of spices, all of which come from plants, previously had not been adequately explored or appreciated. He pointed out that many spice plants are rich in compounds that have antimicrobial actions. These compounds evolved in plants as protection against pathogens and predators.
Dr. Thomas Eisner, a professor of chemical ecology at Cornell who has studied how animals use plant chemicals, said: "Many plant metabolites have antimicrobial potency. The use of antibiotics from natural sources is by no means a human invention." For example, he said, an assassin bug he has studied scrapes resin from the leaves of camphor weed and spreads it on her eggs to protect them from pathogens.
Dr. Sherman, an evolutionary behaviorist and professor of neurology and behavior, and Ms. Billing, then an undergraduate at Cornell, analyzed the frequency with which various spices appear in the traditional recipes of 36 countries, including the northern and southern halves of the United States and China. In the analysis of 4,578 recipes containing meat, poultry or fish published in 93 traditional cookbooks, Ms. Billing found that the hotter the climate of the region, the more spices were called for in the recipes. Especially prominent were spices like onion and garlic that have been shown to inhibit the growth of all 30 microorganisms considered in the study. Capsicums, or hot peppers, which are widely used in hot climates, inhibit the growth of 80 percent of microorganisms considered.
For example, among 120 recipes from Indonesia, 80 percent contained garlic and onion and 77 percent contained capsicums. However, in Ireland, a considerably cooler country, onions appeared in 56 percent, garlic in 23 percent and capsicums in only 2 percent of 90 recipes analyzed, even though the plants can grow there. In India, more than 80 percent of Indian recipes were prepared with onions, ginger and capsicums and 76 percent called for garlic. But in Norway, the only prominent seasonings were black and white pepper, used in less than half the recipes. Onion appeared in only 20 percent of recipes and capsicums were not found in any of the 77 recipes analyzed.
Likewise there are spice use differences within countries with significant regional temperature differences: the northern and southern United States and northeastern and southwestern China. Dr. Sherman suggested that antimicrobial activity may explain why a relatively bland milk-based clam chowder became popular in New England while a spicier crawfish etoufee is preferred in the Deep South.
"I consider recipes a record of the cultural co-evolutionary race between us and microbes," Dr. Sherman said. "We are trying to keep ahead of the microbes that are trying to eat the same foods we eat." He outlined a likely scenario for the evolution of highly spiced foods in countries where food-borne microbes thrive: "The first spice is added and it has a positive effect. Then a second microbe comes along and another spice is added, which has a positive effect, and so on, until a lot of spices are being used, but not so many that there are negative consequences."
He also noted that many spices that themselves have relatively weak antibiotic effects become much more potent when combined, for example, in chili powder (typically a mixture of red pepper, onion, paprika, garlic, cumin and oregano) and five-spice powder (pepper, cinnamon, anise, fennel and cloves). Lemon and lime juice, while weak inhibitors themselves, also have such synergistic effects, he said.
Dr. Paul Rozin, a psychologist who studies food and satiety at the University of Pennsylvania, suggested that a primary use of spices was to inject variety into an otherwise boring menu. He said, "When food is bland or monotonous, spices are used to trick the internal plumbing into thinking that we're eating different foods," which would help keep people from getting sick and tired of eating a lot of the same food.
Cheryl Ritenbaugh, an anthropologist who studies how food influences health at the Kaiser-Permanente Center for Health Research in Portland, Ore., pointed out that chili peppers are a New World food that did not circulate worldwide until after the time of Columbus, so their use in many tropical countries may be too recent to support the Billing-Sherman theory. However, she said, "If the climate is hot and the food monotonous, people may not eat enough, and anything that would add flavor and kill bacteria would be very welcome."
Spicy foods may also enhance digestion. Dr. Marvin Harris, an anthropologist at the University of Florida in Gainesville, said foods made with chili peppers increase salivation, prepare the gut for receiving food, foster intestinal action and help to create a sense of fullness, which would be an evolutionary advantage in countries where food was relatively scarce.
Dr. Larry R. Beuchat, a microbiologist who studies food-borne pathogens and spoilage organisms at the University of Georgia's Center for Food Safety and Quality Enhancement in Griffin, Ga., said that the Billing-Sherman hypothesis has merit. Even at the low levels used in recipes, plant chemicals have antimicrobial activity, he said, adding that the use of essential oils, which are oil-based extracts of plant chemicals, "is one of the oldest methods of preserving meat and was used in mummification."
Dr. Sherman pointed out that in large quantities, some of the antimicrobial chemicals found in spice plants are mutagens, carcinogens and teratogens, substances that can cause genetic damage and birth defects. This may be why women in the first trimester of pregnancy and children who are growing rapidly tend to avoid spicy foods, he said. "During rapid growth, even though there is still a danger of ingesting microbes, the risk of ingesting harmful plant compounds from spices might be worse," he suggested.
Dr. Sherman and Ms. Billing discounted competing explanations for the prevalence of spices in foods from hot climates. They wrote that because spices are consumed in tiny quantities, they provide little of nutritive value. Only hot peppers, but not most of the prominently used spices, induce sweating "and even chilies do not increase perspiration in many people."
That the use of spices evolved and spread simply because they disguise the smell or taste of spoiled foods makes little evolutionary sense because people who ate them would be more likely to get sick and die.
The researchers found no relationship between mean annual temperature and numbers of spices that grow in each country. Nor do tropical countries rely only on spices that are locally grown. "People do not use every spice that grows in their country, but they do use many spices that must be imported, and for centuries have gone to great lengths to obtain them," they wrote. Although pepper, for example, is one of the most frequently used spices in all 36 countries studied, it grows in only nine of them.
In further support of their argument, Dr. Sherman and Ms. Billing noted that "flavors of many widely used spices are not immediately appealing." Rather, people have to learn to like them. "The fact that parents encourage their children to eat (displeasing) spices, and that children come to prefer them by adolescence, strongly suggests that using spices is somehow beneficial," the researchers concluded.

GRAPHIC: Charts: "Hot Weather, Hot Food"
The fact that hot weather and hot foods go hand in hand is hardly a surprise. But researchers have quantified that wisdom by exam-ining traditional recipes from warm and cold countries. They argue that foods are spicier in warmer countries because of the spices' capacity to suppress bacteria. The bars indicate the percentage of different spices in the recipes. Chart compares spice usage in Norway and in India (Source: Dr. Paul W. Sherman and Jennifer Billing)(pg. F1)

"Spice Versus Bacteria"
Some spices are so potent that they can kill or stop of the growth of dozens of species of bacteria. Researchers examined scientific literature dealing with the 30 spices listed below. The bars and numbers represent the percentage of the bacteria species that were inhibited by the particular spice. (Source: Dr. Paul W. Sherman and Jennifer Billing)(pg. F5)

Posted by: Alex at October 21, 2003 08:06 PM
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